I became a mom late in life.
My husband and I got married the week before my 40th birthday, and
for 2 years we gave getting pregnant more than a good try. 20 years of stage IV
endometriosis would not make that easy. Surgery, fertility drugs, ovulation
predictor kits, internet “remedies”… we threw everything at pregnancy we could
think of. I had even located an IVF clinic in St. Louis that specialized in
“lost causes,” which we most certainly were.
Imagine my surprise when,
upon arriving in Maui to take care of my cousin’s family while she spent time
with her dying mother, I discovered that, no, I did not get food poisoning on
the plane. Three pregnancy kits and a blood test later, I finally believed that
the impossible had happened: I was pregnant.
My husband and I both knew
that this would probably be our one and only shot at having a child, so the
pressure was on. After age 35, a woman is considered a “high risk” pregnancy,
and at that point, I was a few years removed from 35. The pregnancy was not
easy, and the delivery almost killed me. Literally.
But I finally got to hold my
beautiful baby girl in my arms, something I had dreamed of my whole life.
And then the real fun began.
* * *
Someone once told me that if
you want something done, you should ask a busy person. I really think that
statement should be amended to say that you should ask a busy woman. Busy women already know how to
get things done, so adding one more thing should be easy, right? We can fry up
the bacon, talk on the phone, type an article, sweep the floor, and make a
child to stop pulling the dog’s tail… all at the same time. W-O-M-A-N.
Before I had my daughter, I
was an elementary school teacher. It was hard work with long hours, and let’s just
say I was not sorry to give it up to be a stay-at-home mom. But it was good
that I had that experience because I developed The Teacher Voice, which frequently
comes in handy, and the word “no” practically rolls off my tongue with no
effort whatsoever.
Towards children, that is. In my own life, I am just
learning how to say no.
I don’t know why we women
find it so difficult to say no. Do we feel it makes us seem weak to admit that
we just can’t do one more thing? Personally, I believe it makes us stronger,
and is more honest to those who are asking us for help. As I’ve discovered over
the past few years, there really is a point where you are overcommitted, and
something always suffers. I don’t want that something to be my daughter.
But I must confess: I am
terrible at following my own advice.
For example: I currently
serve as the Senior State President of the California State Society Children of
the American Revolution (C.A.R.). It’s a big job, but I love working with a fantastic
group of kids, including my own. The DAR keeps me busy as a national chairman,
webmaster, and the state society’s social media coordinator, among other
things.
Genealogy-wise, I was
recently named the Social Media Coordinator for the San Luis Obispo County Genealogical
Society, and I’m the main voice behind their new blog and Twitter account. Oh,
and I’m also the coordinator of ProGen 9.
Hello, my name is Elizabeth, and I’m a
volunteeraholic.
Don’t get me wrong: I love
what I do, but I really wish there were a few more hours in the day. And a
seriously large pot of coffee.
In addition to motherhood, my
genealogy business, and a volunteerism addiction, I also homeschool my
daughter. Actually, we made the decision this year to send her to a part-time
charter school. She attends classes 2 days a week, and I homeschool the
remaining 3 days (weekends are free, unless we miss one of the other days). So
– less driving time to and from school – that leaves me with about 10 hours to
myself each week. And let me tell you, those hours go by FAST.
I keep it all straight – or
try to, at least – with a good, old-fashioned, Franklin Planner. That bulging book is so 20th century,
but it’s the only thing that works for me. I’ve tried Palm Pilots, a Sony CLIÉ, and a half dozen or so smartphone calendars. But I
never looked at them. And the missed appointments and deadlines were testimony
to the fact that a planner not looked at, no matter how technologically cool,
is useless.
For extra nagging support, I use
the calendar on my computer, which I sync to my iPhone, and I have numerous
reminders and alarms that pop up throughout the day. Seriously, if I didn’t get
a reminder to eat lunch or pick up my daughter from ballet, I’m sure I would
forget. And the laundry would be in the washer for a week if I didn’t have an
alarm telling me to put it in the dryer.
When I’m on my game, I plan
out all – and I mean ALL – of our meals for the week, and shop about 2-3 times
a month. When I’m off my game, we eat frozen pizza or whatever isn’t moldy in
the refrigerator. I really don’t like to cook, but someone has to feed us. My
shopping list is kept in an iPhone app called GroceryIQ, and since my phone is
almost always with me, I can’t use “I forgot my list” as an excuse to blow off
the shopping.
I also don’t like housework.
When I pick up my daughter’s toys for the gazillionth time, or clean up after
my elderly dog with bowel problems, I often find myself muttering that this is
NOT what I went to college for. But again, somebody has to do it. Since I’m the
one at home all day, the grunt work falls to me. Plus, my daughter and I both
have very bad allergies, so we have to keep the dust and mildew to a minimum
(easier said than done, living on the coast). I try to clean at least one part
of the house each day, but I’d be lying if I said I was always successful at
that.
When it comes to taking care
of myself, like most moms, I typically wind up at the bottom of the list. To be
honest, I hate to exercise, and my two favorite food groups are caffeine and
sugar. I joined a family-friendly gym with a great, supervised, child play area
earlier this year so I would have no more excuses not to exercise. But it’s
amazing how many excuses I can still come up with. I really do want to live
long enough to see my daughter get married and have kids of her own, and I was
warned that if I didn’t whip my core into shape I could count on many, painful
years of degenerative disc disease (DDD). So with that in mind, I try to drag
myself to the gym 2 or 3 times a week. Eating right is another problem entirely…
hence the planning of all meals so I won’t choose a cookie for lunch instead of
a salad.
I do like to sleep, but I
don’t get much of it anymore. By the time my daughter goes to bed at 8:00 p.m.,
I’m usually fried. My insomnia and my husband’s buzzsaw-like snoring often keep
me awake for hours. On a good night, I get 5-6 hours of sleep. On a bad night,
maybe 2. On a really bad night, I sleep in the guest room with ear plugs.
I started blogging four years
ago as a way to save my sanity. My original plan was to be a "mommy-blogger,”
since everyone who was anyone was a mommy-blogger back in the day. I soon found
myself bored with writing about cleaning my house or my daughter’s swimming
lessons, and the series I did about having a virus was not my best work (I
blame the cold meds). So I began interspersing updates about Starbuck’s newest
flavors with stories of genealogy. And
that’s how I became a geneamommyblogger. After all, genealogy isn’t just about
our ancestors; it’s also about the memories we leave for our descendants.
* * *
Being a late-in-life mom
gives me a different perspective. I’ve already had a career (several, in fact),
so I don’t mind giving up time to spend with my daughter. I’m keenly aware of
the fact that a good portion of my life has already been lived, so I need to
spend what’s left of it doing things that make me – and my family – happy.
And when my daughter
interrupts me while I’m writing to give me a hug and tell me she loves me (like
she just did), or to ask me to play ponies, I remind myself that one day she’ll
be a surly teenager, and her only acknowledgement of my existence will be a
heavy sigh and rolling eyes.
I savor each moment while I
can.
I want my daughter to
remember her mother as someone who worked hard, enjoyed what she did, but was
never too busy to make time for her… and that she was loved and wanted more than
anything in the world.
When things get to be too
much, I ask myself, “What’s the worst that will happen if I don’t get this done
today?” If no one will die, and no blood is involved, I might just put it off
for another day.
After all, we really do need
to stop for hugs and ponies once in a while.
Those are the real memories that will last for a
lifetime.
* * *
Elizabeth O’Neal is a
professional genealogist specializing in the preparation of lineage society applications,
as well as the use of technology and social media. She enjoys writing and
lecturing about genealogy, and is the author of the award‐winning genealogy
blog “Little Bytes of Life.”
Her daughter has not yet caught
the genealogy bug, but spends time with mom and dad visiting local cemeteries.
She still thinks they are just big parks with lots of stepping stones.
Contact Elizabeth at
elizabeth [at] littlebytesoflife [dot] com, or on Twitter as @littlebyteslife.
beginning October 15, 2011. If you missed a day, click here.